"Sounds like a good idea."
"Yeah."
"How do you feel today?"
Valie picked her head up, and before she could say anything, an orange smacked her on the side of the head and she quickly stood.
“Ow!” She looked to her right and saw Trent standing in the doorway, laughing hysterically.
“I'm so sorry, Valie!”
"Trenton Jay Snevets!" Leon yelled.
Trent was still laughing, "Dad, I'm sorry! She usually catches them!"
Valie furrowed her eyebrows and watched Trent plop down in the desk next to her.
"You're off your spunk, kid." He said, picking up the orange tossing it back and forth between his hands. He looked at her and very gently threw the orange to Valie.
She caught the slow-moving orange, "Stop throwing fruit at me!" She said throwing it back at him; it hit his chest with a thud.
“Owie! Dad! She struck me with the orange, did you see that? Such violence from such a sweet girl,” he teased.
"Stop throwing fruit at each other," Leon said unintentionally comically.
"Anyway, my dear cousin, I heard a rumor today." Trent announced.
"And what's that?" She sneered.
"After gym, I was in the locker room, minding my own business, casually eavesdropping, when I heard that Bobby Kewitz plans on asking you to Homecoming."
Valie gave him a sideways glance, "What?"
"Yeah, I don't think they knew I was around, or they did and chose to ignore the fact, but he's gonna ask you. Hehehe."
"I don't want to go to Homecoming with him."
"Why not?" Leon asked.
"Yeah, Valie, why not?" Trent asked, leaning towards her, resting his head on his hand, with a big stupid smirk on his face. He already knew why, but wanted to hear her say it.
"Maybe it's me, maybe I'm being shallow, but he has the worst breath, like halitosis or something. Whenever he talks, you have to maintain a safe distance."
"He does have some pretty rank breath," Trent agreed.
Leon rolled his eyes, "Don't be so judgmental. You two, as perfect as you appear, are flawed too."
Trent put his hand to his chest, “What! Not us!”
"You know, I was just thinking. I remember when I was applying for colleges," Leon started, changing the subject and then looking off in the distance, seemingly reflecting on something. "College was one of the best times of my life."
Valie tilted her head, "Really?"
“Well before you two precious, nerve-wracking gems came into my life, that is.”
Valie tried to picture him years ago in college, young and happy, before the worry lines on his face deepened, before the gray hairs and the saddened expression from the loss of his sister, then his wife. She couldn't quite picture it. To Valie, her uncle always looked stressed. You could tell he suffered through a tragedy or two in his life, despite his best efforts to move past his hardships. She could see it, she was sure others could see it too.
"When I was in college, I made some of the best friends I'd ever had. It was around the time I first met Rory Nicotero. "He was smiling, but then his smile slowly faded, like the smile was betraying him, it didn't belong. “That was a long time ago...feels like centuries.”
Valie saw an opportunity, “You know, I was thinking maybe...maybe I could apply for some colleges out of state, maybe my mom's Alma Mater.”
“No.” He said curtly.
“Seriously?” She said in a snotty tone, that she instantly regretted and took a quick breath to compose herself. “Why not? I'll get to broaden my horizons.”
“I don't want you going off far from home, I don't want you going where I can't keep tabs on you and that's the last I want to hear of it!”
Valie turned to Trent for help. He knew how badly she wanted to go out of state for college, and he knew the reasons why too, but Trent only put his head down. The child in her wanted to continue to argue with her uncle, but the mature part knew why he was so insistent about it. He suffered a lot, losing both his sister and his wife within 3 months of each other. Trent and Valie were all he had. It was why he'd always been protective on the border of completely smothering them.
Trent's voice broke her train of thought, but it wasn't to defend her, he was changing the subject.
Typical.
"I know what you're thinking," he said, taking the subject of conversation back to what he wanted.
Valie gave him a challenging look.
"You're thinking about going to homecoming with Bobby Kewitz," he said with a mischievous grin. Trent hated to talk about anything serious, as if it was torturous to him, he preferred to laugh.
"I don't need a date."
"Oh yes, you do! You've gone to all three of our homecomings solo. You even went to prom last year by yourself--it's getting a little weird. I'm almost embarrassed for you."
Before Valie had the chance to explain to him why it was perfectly acceptable to go to a dance without a date, the text alert went off on her phone.
"Who dat?" Trent asked.
"Mind your own beeswax," she said back, pulling her phone from her pocket.
"Is it Bobby Kewitz?"
She glared at him, "You're such a troll."
To her dismay, it was Bobby Kewitz. Valie glanced at Trent out of the corner of her eye, wondering how he could've predicted that one. The text just said, “Hay, wat up.” If anything, she would've turned his invitation down for his hideous grammar.
"Guys?" Leon interrupted them. They both looked up.
He pushed his glasses up his nose and made his way from around the desk towards them. "I'll be home late tonight. I have, uh, some things I need to tend to."
It was a peculiar moment. He looked sad, he looked confused. In that instant, in that look, Valie felt concerned and she knew that she would never forget the look on his face that day. One that didn't make sense at the time, and she wouldn't realize the significance of that moment until it had already become a distant memory.
"I'll see you kids later and I love ya both."
"Something's wrong, I can tell by the look on your face. What's wrong?" Valie pleaded.
"No, no. Nothing to worry about. It's just some business."
While Valie felt worried, Trent did not share any concerns. He jumped up from his desk and said, "Sounds good. I'm off, I have science club, hasta!" He shuffled to the door and tried to moon walk his way out.
Valie shook her head and rolled her eyes.
She turned her attention back to her uncle. “Are you sure everything's okay?”
“Certainly, peanut.” He took a breath, ready to say more, but hesitated. He gave Valie a nod and went back to cleaning his desk.
Valie didn't press him further. She kissed her uncle on the cheek and left. She waved bye to Trent, who was already in the school's algebra classroom preparing for his club meeting, and left the school.
As Valie walked home, she was salty about the fact that she couldn't appreciate the lovely weather, but only because she was trying to plot how to avoid Bobby Kewitz. Valie didn't want to be mean or hurt his feelings, but she also just wanted to go to the dance with her friends and have fun. There was no guy in the school that she wanted to go with. While Trent thought it was odd that Valie never had a date to any of the dances, to her, it was because she just never saw anyone that she would've had fun with. She would rather just be with her friends and not worry about the niceties that accompany a potentially awkward date.
Once Valie got home, she went right to her room to change into her work clothes-- Khaki pants and a horrid yellow smock that was a few sizes too big and said "Binko's" on the back in orange letters. Valie pinned on her name tag and pulled the picture out of the back pocket of the jeans she'd been wearing that day. She took a moment to admire it. Valie calculated that she'd probably looked at the picture 258,000 times, give or take, it was like a security blanket to her. One day, when she was running late for work, she had forgotten to put it in her pocket
and she struggled getting through the day. She had to have it, always.
What Valie knew about her mother was that her name was Marniette Revels, but everyone called her Marnie. She attended college at Penn State, and from middle school to high school, then college; she had been an exceptional student. At times when Leon would mention Marnie, he would talk about her gifted mind and how incredibly smart she was. Other than that, Valie didn't know much more. She knew absolutely nothing about her father. She had tried finding information on her mother, mostly thought internet searches, even calling Penn State and asked about her academic records, but the college stated that not only could they not release such information, but there was never a student named Marniette Revels enrolled in their college. Valie refused to believe that her uncle would lie about such a thing, so she chalked it up to an error on the college's part. Valie was never able to find an obituary on her mother either. It seemed that when she died, every memory of her died too. It was a reason she cherished the photo so much, it was all she had.
Valie left the house, locking the door behind her, and started her walk to work. She had worked at a small grocery store in the neighborhood for the past two years, every Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday night. Valie was carefully saving her money for a car and college. Leon had offered to buy Trent and Valie each a car when they turned 16, “nothing fancy” he said, but Valie wanted to do it on her own. As for Trent, he didn't want to drive a car. He had a license, but he rode his bike everywhere. To him, driving was "depleting the ozone layer."
The grocery store was only a few blocks away from their home. Once Valie got there, she rushed into the musty and poorly lit break room, punched her time card, and prepared to open her register. As she turned around, she gasped. There stood the manager of the store, Arnie.
Arnie was a short, stout man who had big brown eyes that were made harsh by his sharp eyebrows that met together in the middle. His two front teeth hung slightly over his bottom lip.
"You're late," he stated in his whiny voice.
"Umm..." Valie looked at the clock on the wall. It was 4:25. Her shift didn't begin until 4:30, but before she could say anything, Arnie scurried away with his clipboard.
There were just three checkout lanes in the small store, when they probably only needed one. That night, Valie was the only one with a lane open.
As the night went on, she had been methodically swiping groceries, taking money, and making change like she always had. For the most part, it was a boring and repetitive job. Generally, the only people who came into the grocery store were regulars, mostly elderly people and families who lived in the surrounding neighborhoods. That was her job though, a cashier, or as Trent called it, a “checkout girl,” either way, it was essentially the same thing, different titles of the same boring job.
Once seven o'clock rolled around, it was dark outside and the store was nearly empty. Valie was bagging the groceries of one of their regular customers, Mrs. Plume.
“Oh, Valie, you're such a good little worker,” she said as she patted Valie on the hand. Mrs. Plume was nearly 90 years old and her white hair was hair sprayed so much so that it didn't move, not even in a stiff breeze.
"Thank you, Mrs. Plume."
"Have you found yourself a nice fella yet? You're getting to the age where you need to find yourself a nice fella."
Valie bit her lip, "Nope, no fella yet, Mrs. Plume."
"Well, don't wait too long, you aren't getting any younger!"
Valie forced a smile. Mrs. Plume reminded Valie of that every single time she came into the store. Every. Single. Time. Valie fought back the urge to remind her that she was just barely 18 years old.
Valie carried Mrs. Plume's bags to her car and then went on her break.
The break room at Binko's had an oversized clock next to a small table to remind the employees that their break time was running shorter and shorter. Not that Valie even needed a break per se, because it was a pretty easy job, but it was a paid break, and there wasn't anything else to do anyway.
Valie glanced at her cell phone. She had text messages from both Casey and Emma reminding her about a shopping trip the three planned to take that weekend. When Valie saw that she also had another text from Bobby Kewitz, she frowned. The text was the exact same text as before. She had been wondering how he got her number in the first place. Probably Trent. Trent the instigator. Valie ignored his text and used the time to finalize the shopping trip with her friends.
In the midst of her texting haze, Valie's coworker Lewis strolled into the break-room, throwing an apple as he did so. Valie didn't notice it until it almost hit her in the face. She snapped her arm up and caught it. It was like a party trick to Lewis and Trent.
“Every time!” He said excitedly.
"Looks like I caught it that time jerk," Valie mumbled under her breath, referring back to Trent.
"Huh?"
"Oh, sorry, nothing. How's it going, Lewis?"
Lewis and Valie went to the same high school. He was a sophomore and a nice kid. He was a little chubby, had acne and braces, and the kind of face that made you want to pinch his cheeks. Lewis was a friend to Valie, they didn't really have much in common, aside from their crappy job, but he was at her house a lot, mostly to be tutored by Leon and discuss science club with Trent. Yes, Lewis was one of the five members of Trent's precious science club.
Lewis plopped himself down in the chair across from Valie, “Did you get my text?” He asked with a devilish grin.
Valie thought for a second. Lewis probably sent her about ten text messages a day; it was hard to decipher which one he meant. Valie must've overlooked his text while avoiding other certain messages.
"Um..."
"The one that said I had exciting news?"
"Um...I don't think...well, what's your exciting news, Lewis?" She didn't have the heart to tell him that she didn't read his text message.
"It's all we've been talking about in science club this past couple of weeks. Your uncle actually just talked to me about it today, we're discussing conspiracy theories, whether or not it actually happened. It's so exciting because--"
"Lewis, you lost me," Valie interrupted.
"Oh, yeah, sorry. We've been talking about The Wozniak Five."
She blinked.
"You know, one of the most famous science mysteries ever?!"
Valie knew what he was talking about. Her uncle had talked about it from time to time, she also learned about it in the seventh grade, both in history and science class. Growing up in a household with two people that were both science fiends, the story was familiar to her. Just about every school had learned about The Wozniak Five at some point. It was a story about some scientists in the 1990s that were the first and only people to create human beings by genetically engineering them. The media covered the story. It was a big deal at the time, but about a month after the babies were created, they disappeared. The babies, the scientists, any trace of them--gone. There were some people like Lewis, Trent, and even Valie's uncle who believed the story was real. Most people called it a hoax, like the Lochness Monster, but it didn't stop some news outlets, chat rooms, and clubs from talking about it, even after all these years. Every once in a while, someone would come forward claiming to be one of the scientists or even one of the babies that was created. It was almost always eventually disproved, but sometimes there was simply no way to really tell. Valie's science teacher even once told her class that there was a rumor that a government agency had been created to investigate the disappearance of the scientists, but the agency was unsuccessful in their efforts. To Valie, it was a hoax--fun to think about, yes, but that was all.
"Well, anyway," Lewis continued, "They turn 18 on the 18th!"
"Oh, really?” Valie said, feigning interest.
"Here," Lewis pulled a small book from the back of his pocket. "Your uncle has been helping me with some additional information. Listen to this; I put it together for a paper I'm writing for my history class." He
started to read from a section in his book, "The scientifically engineered breed came to be known as The Wozniak Five Babies, or more simply, The Wozniak Five. Created by a team of scientists in 1995, it is believed that on their 18th birthdays they will expire. Pretty crazy, right? That's my intro." He nodded, grinning widely. He had an expression on his face like he'd just told a joke and he was waiting for Valie to laugh.
"Expire? You mean die?"
"Yeah, that's just my intro paragraph. You wanna hear more?"
"Lewis," Valie began, with some inadvertent condescension in her voice, "you really believe that there were scientists that were able to create humans in a lab with some beakers and no one has been able to do it since?"
He put his head down for a moment, and then looked back up at her. "Yeah. Some people are just...brilliant. Everyone has to believe in something. I believe in science and The Wozniak Five."
“I'm more of a realist.”
“You're a pessimist,” he corrected.
“I am not,” Valie snipped back, surprised how offended she suddenly felt.
Arnie popped his head in, "What are you two doing?"
"We're on our break," Valie said obviously.
"If you two are back here, that means that Greta is the only one on the floor and you know what happens when Greta is the only one on the floor!"
Greta was an 80-year-old woman who often fell asleep at her register, mistook 10 dollar bills for 20s, things like that.
Valie took a breath and shook off the mysterious vibe created from Lewis' story. She playfully pushed his head and headed back to her register.
By the time it was 10 o'clock, Valie was ready to fall asleep, occasionally pinching her arm to keep herself alert. The store was spotless, the linoleum floors were shiny, the produce section was filled with clean fruit, and all the shelves were neatly replenished. In the store, it was only Valie, Lewis, and Arnie. Greta had been sent home after she tried slapping a young man after he “mouthed off” to her, which had been the most excitement the store had seen--probably all week, maybe even all month...or year.
Valie was sitting at her register scribbling on the back of a receipt, trying to do what Mr. Winters had told her--think of ideas for her future. Since Valie was a little girl, she loved writing stories, but she had never been able to finish one. Try as she might, she would be able to come up with an amazing start, even a great middle, but she struggled with the finish. So, on a bookshelf in her room were a few stacks of notebooks with stories that had no endings, characters that she created, doomed to forever sit in limbo.
The Pendants and the Mystery of the Wozniak Five Part I Page 4
